


watching you watching me

by CrazyLaughter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Almost Kiss, Christmas, First Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 20:38:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17066684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyLaughter/pseuds/CrazyLaughter
Summary: It's Jack's first Christmas, and they celebrate it.





	watching you watching me

There was a disgustingly colorful tree on the table in the main room of the bunker.

Dean had watched, sat back with a beer in his hand while Sam and Cas had lugged it down the stairs and flopped it atop the table, huffing and puffing. Honestly, he wanted a modest Christmas, but Sam wanted to go big or go home on it since it was Jack's first Christmas.

So, that leads it all to be Jack's fault. 

But, Jack's face when he saw the tree, was gold. He looked up at it with so much awe and asked four times in a row if he could really decorate it. It drove Dean to pick out the old ornament boxes in the storage unit. He cursed when the sneezes came from the dust. He supposes it was worth it when Jack pranced around the tree, standing on the table while he hung up everything he could find in the boxes. 

Sam had patted Jack's back and Cas smiled at him like he usually did like he was proud of him. Dean didn't say anything, because Jack probably understood.

It didn't end there. 

Since everyone was out for Christmas, and Mom and Bobby were off in a cabin, celebrating in ways Dean didn't ever want to know, he was dragged outside for present shopping. Cas was horrible at it, and so Sam pulled him along and made sure to buy Jack loads of things to introduce him to. A jack in the box (for its irony), a melon baller (that didn't have a use), the Kamasutra (yikes) and several bottles of Kool-Aid. Wrapping them was another story. 

When Christmas Eve comes, Sam like the mother he is, makes everyone but Cas put on ugly Christmas sweaters. It only makes Jack more excited than he was. They drink eggnog and watch the Elf, and all of them fall asleep halfway through the next movie and wake up sandwiched together on the afternoon next day, with a blanket that Cas had strewn across them. 

"Gerroff me, Sammy," he rumbles with sleep still weighing down his eyes. 

Sam simply flips him the bird, turns away and hogs the blanket. Cursing, Dean reaches around Jack and kicks Sam's shin and tries to get some shut-eye again. 

"Presents!" Jack trills out and he winces in reply. 

He opens an eye to see Jack to whizzing past the living room to the table with the Christmas tree. Cas smiles at him apologetically and Dean pushes himself up from the couch with a harrumph, his back groaning in protest. Even though he was offended by Jack's words, he knew deep down that he was getting old. 

He ties up his robe, walking to the table before he grabs a candy cane right off the tree and shoved it into his mouth in lieu of brushing his teeth. It was way too early in the morning for such excitement.

Collapsing into a chair, Dean watches Jack rip through all his presents with dreary eyes. Each gift pulls a sharper gasp from him than the earlier. A bunch of 'this is so cool', 'awesome', 'oh wow' pour out through his mouth and Dean has to stifle a laugh. 

"Oh hey," Dean reaches for the cubby under the table and pulled out his own presents. "Here ya go, kid," he tosses the floppiest one at Jack, who promptly catches it. "Sammy," he throws the medium sized box at his brother and pushes the smallest of all towards Cas, who watches him dubiously. 

Sam furrows his brows. "We don't do presents. When did you go shopping?"

"Grabbed a couple o' things while you were talking my ear off. Bought them right under your nose," he responds with a smirk. 

Rolling his eyes, Sam neatly opens up his box and produces a pair of steel scissors. "The hell, dude?"

"I've always been telling you that you need a haircut. Just pushing you in the right direction," Deans simpers harder. 

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"This is awesome!" exclaims Jack. He holds up the black shirt that was a size too big on him, a graphic picture of a zombie printed on the front. "This is the best present ever! Thanks, Dean."

Dean nods at him while trying to conceal his smile. 

When he looks over at Cas, he is busying pinning up the tiny bumblebee brooch he had gotten him on the lapel of his trench-coat. "This is very thoughtful, Dean," he says with a hint of a smile, and the most enthusiasm a celestial smile could muster. "It is very much appreciated, I may never take it off."

Though he would never admit to it, Dean feels the span of his neck set afire. He clears his throat, looking away and straightens up the collar of his robe. 

Late into the afternoon, they don't have what is a traditional Christmas. They lazily clean up after themselves. Jack parades around in his new shirt and a toothy smile. Dean attends Mom's call with a side of Bobby hollering in a comment or two. Cas spends a few hours wincing at Black Mirror (But, Dean, mirrors don't have a specific color? They reflect white light, so why do they call them black?) and Sam runs down to a gourmet store in town that sold roast and pudding. 

For lunch, all of them feast mostly on the sight of Jack falling in love with roast ham and mashed potatoes, stuffing his cheeks till he looks like a freaking chipmunk. It's both delightful and nauseating to watch. It's almost as if Dean and Jack compete in the area and Sam throws them both dirty looks. Cas watches on. 

Halfway through, the doorbell rings and after an intense staring match between all four of them, Sam sighs and gives up to go upstairs and open the door. A mob of people bustle in at once and hurtle down the stairs. It's only when they come into view that Dean realizes that it's Jody and the girls. 

"Hey," Dean stands up and accepts Jody's hug.

"How have you been?" She smiles easily despite the crow's feet by her eyes, getting prominent as ever.

"I don't know, but you look like you've slept well," she gives him a once-over. 

Dean laughs in reply. "That I did. I don't know how much eggnog we had yesterday but it knocked me out like a baby."

"Good for you," she says and steps aside and Alex comes over with a smile and a hug. 

Patience stands awkwardly amidst it all and gives him a shy wave. 

Claire who is in a deep, snarky conversation with Cas, turns to look at him with a raised eyebrow. Her bottom lip is busted. "Hey, Dean," she says, confidently with her arms crossed. 

"What happened to your face?"

Jody pipes in, "She's been careless again."

Claire clenches her jaw and doesn't bother looking at her. "Was fighting a vampire up in Wisconsin."

Dean would tell her to be careful, but he would sound senile and for one, he knows she won't listen to him. It's better saying nothing about it at all. He rolls his eyes. "Come on, bring it in." She copies his action and strides forward to wrap an arm around his middle. 

At once, everyone startles at the loud 'Hi' Jack says to the room at large while he's still rabidly eating. 

"Seriously, though. This is a surprise," Sam enunciates by spreading his arms and gestures to them.

Jody looks at the girls and then back at them. "I thought you boys might be having take out again, and so," she lifts her hand that's carrying a large plastic bag, "we decided to bring you something homemade. And also, celebrate the rest of Christmas together."

Before any of them could share any sentiment, she cuts across and points to Jack's plate. "You guys didn't make that, did you? You can't cook to save a life."

Dean starts to protest. "I can make a mean omele-"

"Direct me to the oven," Jody demands with a no-nonsense look.

He has no choice but to obey. "Yes, ma'am."

The table is buzzing with so many people. Sam has managed to push the tree to the far end so that they could room to see each other's faces. The conversations flow like the sparkling grape juice at the table. ("No wine," Jody said sternly while all of them pouted. "There are minors.") Patience and Sam look like they're having an intellectual talk, with their forks in the air. Cas and Claire are trying to bond as usual. Alex and Jack are having the most cringe-worthy small talk while Jody and Dean sit back and watch them with an added comment or two. 

They have a remade lunch of stuffed turkey, carrots, turnips and potatoes. There's even Christmas pudding and fruitcake that even after second servings, is leftover. Dean grins as he deposits them all in the refrigerator. 

The evening is filled with the board-games that Alex had brought along. Cas is fascinated with Scrabble, so they play it twice even though Sam rules them with his dictionary-head. Pictionary results in a not-so-aggressive shouting match, it carries on till they play Operation. Board Games aside, Dumb Charades is a complete fail with Jack not understanding why they pretend they don't have voices. But, in the end, they're all tired and happy, and maybe that's all that matters. 

They eat directly from the leftover containers and reminisce how all the times before felt hard, but was nothing compared to what they were facing now. It wasn't like it was solved, but they pretended just for a while that everything was fine- they were putting it on hold. They should be used to it now, though. Problems of the world have been thrust upon for so long, one worse than the previous over and over again. Just because of a stupid prophecy that was written who knows how long ago.

Jody and the girls, as well as Jack, head to bed even though it was barely past nine. Sam had his headphones on in his room and Dean was sure of it. 

Dean doesn't remember when he had a nice Christmas. Dad didn't partake in any celebrations when he was alive and Sam didn't like celebrating it at all. When they wanted to, the world was always ending- which now felt like a load of drama and boredom projected by the universe, maybe even by Chuck. 

He wondered what Amara was up to. When he looks around the room while swirling his glass of whiskey, seated in his armchair, Cas glares back at him from the table, like he can hear his thoughts. Looking at it now, Cas never liked Amara, even after she changed. 

That's when it hits Dean. 

A rather familiar smell of cinnamon and butter wafts in through the kitchen and perks at Dean's senses. He's up and out of his chair before he even realizes it, sets his glass on the table with a loud clang and marches towards the kitchen. Behind him, he can hear Cas jump up as well and the sound of his coat ruffling confirms that he's following him. 

Dean doesn't bother telling him to chill it. All he can think about is someone entering the bunker and raiding his kitchen to make food? Could it be Rowena? The witch had a flair for being theatrical, and sometimes she really went to town with it.

As soon as he enters the kitchen, Dean sees no one. The oven is on, though. He can see a circular aluminium tray under the orange light. 

"It was supposed to be a surprise," reveals Cas. His frown lines are prominent when Dean flips around to peer at him. 

As intelligent as Dean can be, the thing that comes out of his mouth is, "Huh?"

Cas's gaze falls to the ground and his frown turns into a grimace. "You weren't supposed to know. I forgot that baking pie emits its smell."

Dean wrinkles his brows at him. "Wait, hold up," he saunters closer to where Cas is leaning his hip against the counter. "You were baking me a pie?"

"Yeah, and it was supposed to be a secret-"

"When did you do it?"

Cas shrugs sheepishly, and his vessel looks so much younger all of a sudden. He doesn't have to remind himself that this  _was_  Cas's body. It belonged to him every sense, and most times he didn't have to remind himself when he's accidentally lusted upon even without seeing much of what it looks like under all those layers.

Is that called lust, then?

"-time when you were playing Pictureka," Dean zones in again while Cas rambles on. "I don't like that game. I put in the oven a while ago-"

A smile that Dean doesn't allow, eases itself out on his face. "You baked me a pie."

"We didn't have any today and I know how you love it-"

"You baked me a pie," concludes Dean with laughter in his voice. 

Cas tilts his head, looking as adorable as ever. Dean doesn't know if he's ever likened a guy to a kitten, but he supposes there's a first to everything. "The Tube of Yours is very informational. It had nice video tutorials-"

Dean shakes his head. "Shut up," he says softly. "Wait for a minute." He steps a little closer and brings up a hand to play with the buttons on Cas's trenchcoat. "You baked me a pie. Why?"

Though his throat bobs nervously, Cas dares to track the movement of his hands with his eyes. He darts his head up, wide-eyed as he stares unblinkingly into Dean's eyes. He wants to ask Cas if he ever gets tired of watching him- if he would ever doing anything other than watch. "Uh, well... We haven't really celebrated Christmas since we met because of reasons and you got me a really nice present today. I simply wanted to make it up to you."

From the corner of his eye, Dean sees Cas's fists clench at his sides, he can hear when Cas's breath goes shallow. "You know you don't have to make it up to me."

There's a twitch of Cas's eyebrow and a small smile, dipped in melancholy, surfaces. "But, I do," he says into the air between them. 

Just as Dean is a breath away from having actual skin contact with Cas, a boisterous noise interrupts them, and he finds himself jumping back. A second later, he recognizes it to be the noise of glass breaking, followed religiously by the sound of Jack cursing. The kid must have run past the table again for a glass of water. 

Clearing his throat, cheeks aflame, eyes anywhere but on Cas and trying to catch his breath, Dean walks backwards and nearly races out of the kitchen. He stores the memory of it all somewhere in his brain, where no one can touch him. Somewhere he can look for when he reminds himself he can never have Cas. Or when he could never let himself have Cas. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the most aimless thing I've written. It literally didn't have a plot. XD  
> I also like torturing myself with such endings. 
> 
> Feedback is appreciated x


End file.
